Chapter 7 — Flames of vengeance
Kureha Cryleth, the sword master. If anything was to be said with certainty, it was the fact that every man, woman, and child in Jioral had heard this name at least once. She came from the family of the Cryleths, the strongest swordsmen in the world. Although they were aristocrats, one couldn’t find more enthusiastic slayers anywhere. After all, they were one of the last followers of Takemikazuchi, the warrior-god of sword mastery. Whatever they did, it was for their family to obtain more might, whether political or military. They were so desperate that even the unborn babies were at the risk of being aborted if they failed to fulfill the expectations. And the incest... Well, it was so popular among them that one would find it really bothersome to look for a normal couple there. In any case, their heinous struggles bore fruit when the Cryleths were granted their own class — sword master.
It has been proven empirically that class depends both on heritage and on the environment in which a person has grown up (until some god decides to intrude, that is). Certainly, one could learn Cryleth’s fighting style even without being one of their kind, but that was near impossible. Not when they were so obsessed with keeping its secret within the family. Every generation has brought something new to the table. Something that allowed murder far more efficiently, that is.
And even among geniuses, Kureha was the best. Keyaru burned with the flame of lust. He wanted her power for himself. The last time he healed her, his weakness and inexperience didn’t let him inherit her mastery. What he saw and felt broke the boy, and soon other memories would displace her skills. But not this time. To conquer Jioral and its monsters, he needed strength. Knowing how to fight would not make Keyaru invulnerable, nor would it make him equal to Kureha, but it was a good start.
As usual, at the tipping point, Keyaru spent his time with his teacher, right when Mira came with a message.
"Please, follow me, the Hero of Healing. An important person awaits you. "
The young man already understood who that person was. He was upset, though. To accept Flare’s gifts, mindlessly spending his leisure with maids, thinking himself to be a hero, while boasting to other girls just to get under their skirts — well, he could argue that every maid, accountant of a noble brat he seduced gave him a bit of power. After all, now he was at the fifth level. Robbing someone time after time had no sense, and the variety was, indeed, the spice of life. Even in the cold dungeon...
Right now, the boy was positively thrilled. Craving for the power of Kureha Cryleth herself, he walked towards Flare’s personal garden.
"I’ll need to become strong enough. But it’s fine, the time will pass quickly. " He could already savor fulfilling her promise to Flare.
And there she was. She waited for him in the garden, filled with rainaras, the sort of perfectly white lilies. She was sitting under a stone gazebo with her mythril armor on, for what it was worth. The nicest place in the palace, with Flare tendering the garden.
"Could it be that she still has something good in her? This place is absolutely gorgeous. " — Keyaru though, looking sideways. He quickly dismissed his thought, because this was just an expensive hobby for the princess, who had forgotten who had passed it down to her.
Keyaru was met by Torlun and Flare herself. One craved knowledge, another — results.
"Are you the Hero of Healing?" Now this one-handed, silver-haired beauty was absolutely sincere in her courtesy. This stunning and unforgettable girl dedicated her entire life to sword mastery. And without her right arm, she lost it all. Of course, she could just give up, marry her cousin and bear offspring, some of them would have been murdered right in her womb, but she persisted. Initially, Kureha wanted to master her left limb, and now she grabbed her chance.
"Yes, it’s my honor to meet you." This time, Keyaru didn’t lie. "Let’s start immediately. Oh, could you turn your back to me? It's... somewhat important. " After all, his red eye was glowing with jade light, and the lad had spent five days trying to get it. A gift like this was anything but common for a newly announced hero like him.
Race: Human
Name: Kureha
Class: the Sword Master
Level: 45
Mana: 169/169
Physical attack: 122
Physical defense: 86
Magic attack: 70
Magic defense: 79
Speed: 103
Abilities:
Divine blade: 5-th level
Ultra-perception: 5-th level
Skills;
Boost to Divine blade: 3-rd level, the skill exclusive to the Sword Master. Improves attack power and speed when wielding bladed weapons.
Divine feeling; 3-rd level, the skill exclusive to the Sword Master. Improves the range and reaction speed within the range of ultra-perception.
And…
Level cap: 51
Potential:
Mana: 90
Physical attack: 128
Physical defense: 90
Magic attack: 72
Magic defense: 90
Speed: 109
Summary: 580
Now this is what you call strong. She wasn’t even a hero, but her level cap exceeded fifty. Nobody could compete with her, at least in terms of raw power, among all the people Keyaru knew in his previous life, and the list was really long and extensive. The peak of Cryleth’s struggles. And who would have been able to defeat her? Certainly someone from the ranks of the Three Champions of Jioral, at least.
"Please." — the girl said, bracing for disappointment. After all, not even an elixir could regrow her arm.
"I’ll do my best" …to steal your skills. Keyaru closed his eyes and focused on his divine power. Torlun watched, groping his long, accurate beard while Flare barely held her yawn. A decisive point, whether or not she deserved to be judged by the healer.
This was supposed to be the first time Keyaru would use his power on someone. Even now, though, Kureha was the most traumatized person he could think of. But it’s fine. The pain will be severe, but as time goes on, the young man’s body will get used to it. This will help, even if only a little bit.
The lad bit his teeth and called upon his powers. The green sparkle imbued his arms as he touched the stump. And then... He saw it all. A woman who had been training her since she was a child, but it was nothing but abuse. Hundreds of corpses, blood, death, fear, murder, death, PAIN, PAIN, DEATH, TERROR, PAIN, SUFFERING!!! TAFIAS PUTTING HER TEACHER DOWN, AND CUTTING HER ARM!!! Indescribable dread filled the mind and body of the young healer. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t scream, foam and vomit flooded his mouth, fear shackled both lungs. All Keyaru wanted was to rip his own neck with his own nails and end this torment with death. All the hardships and labors Kureha endured in her eighteen years rushed through the hero's mind in mere seconds. Yet, when it was done, the young man got much, much stronger. And when he dropped down, barely alive, Kureha gazed at her own arm in disbelief.
“A miracle! It’s a true miracle! Thank you, Keyaru! Now I can fight aga…” She stopped her praises when found her savior lying on the ground, in tears and puke.
“The Hero of Healing needs help! Somebody, call a doctor!” — the royal magician screamed, while pushing the blue-eyed swordswoman away.
“Go forth, Kureha. Show His Majesty your arm.” — …and stop bothering us.
“Thank you, I will never forget your kindness. I promise you, I will find a way to repay the debt.” Truly, in the empire of evil she was the most pure and innocent soul. Even naïve. Although one would not want to meet her on the battlefield, at least as an enemy. Keyaru did hear her, though. He was awake, waiting for Flare’s reaction.
“Damn it, can’t he do anything more than that? Healing, who needs that damn healing?”
“No, wait, Your Highness! This is magnificent! This is not a normal healing, this is something more, a recreation of flesh! This is of the divine sphere! Please, let me study him, I want… I need answers!
“Hah… Have it your way, Torlun. Just make him useful. I don’t need this shithead crumbling every time he does his trick. Drugs, brainwashing, violence — whatever you need. You can break him, I couldn’t care less.” That was it. Flare hadn’t changed a bit. One mistake, and she would discard Keyaru. And the mage… well, his enthusiasm was to be commended, but the healer found his methods to be nothing short of barbaric and painful.
“And here I thought this dog could be my equal. What a fucking disappointment.”
All this time Keyaru listened, smiling. Instead of succumbing to grief and tragedy, he rejoiced, struggling not to laugh his lungs out.
“Thank you, Flare, for not changing a bit. Now I can exact my vengeance with no hesitation.” — such was the boy’s last thought before his consciousness left him at last.
Chapter 7 — Flames of vengeance
Kureha Cryleth, the sword master. If anything was to be said with certainty, it was the fact that every man, woman, and child in Jioral had heard this name at least once. She came from the family of the Cryleths, the strongest swordsmen in the world. Although they were aristocrats, one couldn’t find more enthusiastic slayers anywhere. After all, they were one of the last followers of Takemikazuchi, the warrior-god of sword mastery. Whatever they did, it was for their family to obtain more might, whether political or military. They were so desperate that even the unborn babies were at the risk of being aborted if they failed to fulfill the expectations. And the incest... Well, it was so popular among them that one would find it really bothersome to look for a normal couple there. In any case, their heinous struggles bore fruit when the Cryleths were granted their own class — sword master.
It has been proven empirically that class depends both on heritage and on the environment in which a person has grown up (until some god decides to intrude, that is). Certainly, one could learn Cryleth’s fighting style even without being one of their kind, but that was near impossible. Not when they were so obsessed with keeping its secret within the family. Every generation has brought something new to the table. Something that allowed murder far more efficiently, that is.
And even among geniuses, Kureha was the best. Keyaru burned with the flame of lust. He wanted her power for himself. The last time he healed her, his weakness and inexperience didn’t let him inherit her mastery. What he saw and felt broke the boy, and soon other memories would displace her skills. But not this time. To conquer Jioral and its monsters, he needed strength. Knowing how to fight would not make Keyaru invulnerable, nor would it make him equal to Kureha, but it was a good start.
As usual, at the tipping point, Keyaru spent his time with his teacher, right when Mira came with a message.
"Please, follow me, the Hero of Healing. An important person awaits you. "
The young man already understood who that person was. He was upset, though. To accept Flare’s gifts, mindlessly spending his leisure with maids, thinking himself to be a hero, while boasting to other girls just to get under their skirts — well, he could argue that every maid, accountant of a noble brat he seduced gave him a bit of power. After all, now he was at the fifth level. Robbing someone time after time had no sense, and the variety was, indeed, the spice of life. Even in the cold dungeon...
Right now, the boy was positively thrilled. Craving for the power of Kureha Cryleth herself, he walked towards Flare’s personal garden.
"I’ll need to become strong enough. But it’s fine, the time will pass quickly. " He could already savor fulfilling her promise to Flare.
And there she was. She waited for him in the garden, filled with rainaras, the sort of perfectly white lilies. She was sitting under a stone gazebo with her mythril armor on, for what it was worth. The nicest place in the palace, with Flare tendering the garden.
"Could it be that she still has something good in her? This place is absolutely gorgeous. " — Keyaru though, looking sideways. He quickly dismissed his thought, because this was just an expensive hobby for the princess, who had forgotten who had passed it down to her.
Keyaru was met by Torlun and Flare herself. One craved knowledge, another — results.
"Are you the Hero of Healing?" Now this one-handed, silver-haired beauty was absolutely sincere in her courtesy. This stunning and unforgettable girl dedicated her entire life to sword mastery. And without her right arm, she lost it all. Of course, she could just give up, marry her cousin and bear offspring, some of them would have been murdered right in her womb, but she persisted. Initially, Kureha wanted to master her left limb, and now she grabbed her chance.
"Yes, it’s my honor to meet you." This time, Keyaru didn’t lie. "Let’s start immediately. Oh, could you turn your back to me? It's... somewhat important. " After all, his red eye was glowing with jade light, and the lad had spent five days trying to get it. A gift like this was anything but common for a newly announced hero like him.
Race: Human
Name: Kureha
Class: the Sword Master
Level: 45
Mana: 169/169
Physical attack: 122
Physical defense: 86
Magic attack: 70
Magic defense: 79
Speed: 103
Abilities:
Divine blade: 5-th level
Ultra-perception: 5-th level
Skills;
Boost to Divine blade: 3-rd level, the skill exclusive to the Sword Master. Improves attack power and speed when wielding bladed weapons.
Divine feeling; 3-rd level, the skill exclusive to the Sword Master. Improves the range and reaction speed within the range of ultra-perception.
And…
Level cap: 51
Potential:
Mana: 90
Physical attack: 128
Physical defense: 90
Magic attack: 72
Magic defense: 90
Speed: 109
Summary: 580
Now this is what you call strong. She wasn’t even a hero, but her level cap exceeded fifty. Nobody could compete with her, at least in terms of raw power, among all the people Keyaru knew in his previous life, and the list was really long and extensive. The peak of Cryleth’s struggles. And who would have been able to defeat her? Certainly someone from the ranks of the Three Champions of Jioral, at least.
"Please." — the girl said, bracing for disappointment. After all, not even an elixir could regrow her arm.
"I’ll do my best" …to steal your skills. Keyaru closed his eyes and focused on his divine power. Torlun watched, groping his long, accurate beard while Flare barely held her yawn. A decisive point, whether or not she deserved to be judged by the healer.
This was supposed to be the first time Keyaru would use his power on someone. Even now, though, Kureha was the most traumatized person he could think of. But it’s fine. The pain will be severe, but as time goes on, the young man’s body will get used to it. This will help, even if only a little bit.
The lad bit his teeth and called upon his powers. The green sparkle imbued his arms as he touched the stump. And then... He saw it all. A woman who had been training her since she was a child, but it was nothing but abuse. Hundreds of corpses, blood, death, fear, murder, death, PAIN, PAIN, DEATH, TERROR, PAIN, SUFFERING!!! TAFIAS PUTTING HER TEACHER DOWN, AND CUTTING HER ARM!!! Indescribable dread filled the mind and body of the young healer. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t scream, foam and vomit flooded his mouth, fear shackled both lungs. All Keyaru wanted was to rip his own neck with his own nails and end this torment with death. All the hardships and labors Kureha endured in her eighteen years rushed through the hero's mind in mere seconds. Yet, when it was done, the young man got much, much stronger. And when he dropped down, barely alive, Kureha gazed at her own arm in disbelief.
“A miracle! It’s a true miracle! Thank you, Keyaru! Now I can fight aga…” She stopped her praises when found her savior lying on the ground, in tears and puke.
“The Hero of Healing needs help! Somebody, call a doctor!” — the royal magician screamed, while pushing the blue-eyed swordswoman away.
“Go forth, Kureha. Show His Majesty your arm.” — …and stop bothering us.
“Thank you, I will never forget your kindness. I promise you, I will find a way to repay the debt.” Truly, in the empire of evil she was the most pure and innocent soul. Even naïve. Although one would not want to meet her on the battlefield, at least as an enemy. Keyaru did hear her, though. He was awake, waiting for Flare’s reaction.
“Damn it, can’t he do anything more than that? Healing, who needs that damn healing?”
“No, wait, Your Highness! This is magnificent! This is not a normal healing, this is something more, a recreation of flesh! This is of the divine sphere! Please, let me study him, I want… I need answers!
“Hah… Have it your way, Torlun. Just make him useful. I don’t need this shithead crumbling every time he does his trick. Drugs, brainwashing, violence — whatever you need. You can break him, I couldn’t care less.” That was it. Flare hadn’t changed a bit. One mistake, and she would discard Keyaru. And the mage… well, his enthusiasm was to be commended, but the healer found his methods to be nothing short of barbaric and painful.
“And here I thought this dog could be my equal. What a fucking disappointment.”
All this time Keyaru listened, smiling. Instead of succumbing to grief and tragedy, he rejoiced, struggling not to laugh his lungs out.
“Thank you, Flare, for not changing a bit. Now I can exact my vengeance with no hesitation.” — such was the boy’s last thought before his consciousness left him at last.
